Books like Artefacts as Categories

This looks like it’s the sternest and most boring book ever, but I love Steedman’s cool-and-collected ability to address the implications of the obvious: You can only do one thing at a time. You only have two hands. And when you’re with one set of belongings, you’re neglecting all the other stuff you own.

Almost everyone has more stuff than they can hold at once. Picking up something new involves setting down something that you already had. Iyengar’s book is the background for every marketing decision ever made, but from the consumer’s perspective: when there is so much stuff in the world, how do you make a choice? Part psychology, part business manual, Iyengar illustrates how much decision-making we do every single day.

Every time you buy something, aren’t you wondering if you should have bought something else? These authors show how companies make use of our endless waffling about coulda-shoulda-woulda, and focus on all of those categories that you might have overlooked as being part of the status quest, like dog food and appliances, as well as the things that you know the corporate world is doing an upsell on, like sporting equipment and wine. Along the way, you begin to realize that absolutely everything you ever buy, give, or receive is carrying a message about your actual identity -- or the identity that you’re hoping for.

Sh*t happens (bad relationships, business failures, burnt toast). That’s OK, says Scanlan, because making garbage is an essential part of any activity. In fact, you can’t get anywhere, or achieve any kind of personal or intellectual growth, without some detritus. To me, this explains why humans make so much trash of the kind that I’ve spent my life digging up in archaeological sites. And it makes me feel quite OK about spending a day writing stuff that might go straight into the shredder tomorrow…

When I came across this book, I was on the point of giving up reading modern novels. Everything I had read recently was such a let-down at the end that sometimes I threw the book across the room in reader rage.

At last, in Rushdie, I found someone who did not disappoint. As I approached the end, I became breathless, worrying that the story was going to sink like a soufflé, but it didn’t. It just kept on rising.

Once upon a time in Fairgrounds, there was a contraption called the Hammer and Bell. It was a test of strength to see if you could make the bell ring. Most couldn’t. Most got the marker some way up the calibrated column only to see it hesitate, then begin its descent. Midnight’s Children made it to the top.

What makes a good ending? For me, it is some transcendent statement of… show more.

Those who know the field of religious violence may find my choice of Ashis Nandy’s book of essays to be a peculiar one since it deals with a variety of issues besides religious violence. But one of his essays, “The Discrete Charms of Indian Terrorists,” is worth the price of the book. In it, Nandy describes the remarkably civil behavior of young Sikh activists who hijacked an Indian plane in the 1980s. He then goes on to disagree with Gandhi that terrorism necessarily absolutizes a conflict, and he rejects the common perspective, especially in the West, that terrorism is always evil. Though Nandy’s analysis does not fit all, or perhaps most, instances of religion-related terrorism it makes us reconsider our assumptions about the use of violence in certain situations.

Not all the struggles of Asians are with Western societies. There are also divisions and rivalries within Asia, including, sadly, between the two Asian giants: India and China. Kanti Bajpai’s book explains the complex, neurotic relationship between the two Asian powers well. Former Indian PM Manmohan Singh once wisely observed, “The world is large enough to accommodate the growth ambitions of both India and China.”

A decade after he said that China and India clashed again in the Himalayas in June 2020, plunging relations to a new low. The Asian century will be seriously crippled if China and India don’t find a long-term modus vivendi. Bajpai’s book will help both sides understand each other better. 

Ruskin Bond is known more for his simple stories about everyday people in the Himalayan foothills (like a North Indian R.K. Narayan). He does throw in the odd story, which seems like a folktale with a surprising ending like A Face in the Night and The Eyes Have It. This livens up the collection more, as you don’t know when you will get one of the unexpected plot twists.

His books ooze with his love for his adopted country, and he writes with such tenderness about young characters that they are wholesome and fulfilling to read.

What I love most about him is that he is one of the most approachable and friendly authors. He spends hours sitting in his hometown’s main bookshop talking with readers and autographing their purchases. 

A cynical and brilliant exposé of an apparent holy man who goes from tour guide to guru in a way that, although a work of fiction, reminds me of so many religious people I’ve come across who pretend to be something they’re not. It also has a big sense of humor and made me laugh out loud several times.

Published in 1959, it was very ahead of its time and is still the best spiritual fiction novel to come out of India.

I’m interested in the various children’s tales from other countries, and I thought that this classic Indian collection of stories about an imaginary city to be just charming. It captures the richness of everyday life, of daily interactions across all sorts of people.

With such a wide cast of characters, from an astrologer to a postman to a snake charmer, there’s something for everyone to either relate to or marvel at. My favorite stories are the kinds that find meaning in the smallest pockets of life, and this collection is all about that.